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Anonymous

"Moorish Literature"

When we go to work the
sky is covered with clouds and it rains. When the day's work is done the
sun shines."
"Go," said the old man, "put glue on the branch where it perches."
They put glue on its branch and caught the bird. The daughter of the
stepmother said to her mother:
"Let us kill it."
"No," said a slave, "we will amuse ourselves with it."
"No; kill it." And they killed it. Its blood spurted upon a rose-tree. The
rose-tree became so large that it overspread all the village. The people
worked to cut it down until evening, and yet it remained the size of a
thread.
"To-morrow," they said, "we will finish it." The next morning they found it
as big as it was the day before. They returned to the old man and said to
him:
"O old man, we caught the bird and killed it. Its blood gushed upon a
rose-tree, which became so large that it overspreads the whole village.
Yesterday we worked all day to cut it down. We left it the size of a
thread. This morning we find it as big as ever."
"O my children," said the old man, "you are not yet punished enough.


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